Stories of War
by Vilstrup
Summary: A short engagement, between German and American troops, over a small French town.


"What do you see private?"

McFadden looked around the corner of the ruined building "one MG42 and a…" the private fell back, blood spilling out of the hole in his head.  
Then the sound came and made clear what had happened.

"Shit, sniper" Sergeant Robertson felt how dread filled his mind, as he looked down on the face of McFadden.  
The boy was looking towards the clear blue sky, a pool of blood growing in size below his head.  
The boy had only been in the squad for a month, and was only 18 years old.  
Robertson looked away from the body. Another bloody good reason to end the war.  
He looked at the squad under his command. 1st squad had been sent to flank the enemy position from the north, while Robertson's 3rd squad was to attack the MG42 head on from the west.  
Now that a sniper was in place, things had become a lot more complicated. Robertson looked down along the road.  
He could really use some armour now, but they had to take the objective without. The 2nd armoured battalion had been stopped by tank traps, and needed time to clear the road before they could move on. Robertson looked back towards the corner of the building. From aerial reconnaissance photos, the sergeant knew what was around the corner.  
A huge square and the perfect kill zone. He didn't know what was around the corner, except for a sniper, and a heavy machine gun.  
He'd have to see more than that, before making any assaults.  
On the other side of the road, 2nd squad was moving in behind a building. Signalling to them, 2nd squad led by the lieutenant pulled out their smoke grenades, and threw them into the square.  
For a moment, nothing happened. Then the MG42 came to life and began to shoot towards 2nd squad's position. Two men fell to the ground, their bodies ripped to pieces by the massive firepower. "Get back" the lieutenant managed to pull a private back, before the ground was ripped up by bullets.

Robertson looked slowly around the corner. The square was huge. Tall yellow buildings were shadowing across the empty looking square. In the middle was a dry fountain, and on each side, two MG42 heavy machine guns nests. At the end of the square, a church stood tall and mighty, and in the top of the classic tower, Robertson could see the shadow of a small figure.

Robertson looked down the church towards its main entrance. A Pak38 antitank gun stood with its barrel pointed straight towards Robertson's corner. That thing made tanks useless, to say the least. Robertson turned towards his squad "on three, throw grenade"

The three of the men pulled out their grenades, and readied themselves to throw them.  
Robertson turned towards the 2nd squad and signalled them to ready for attack.

They waited for what seemed like an eternity.  
Robertson kept staring at the corner, where 2nd squad stood. Then it finally came. Four explosions and a roar came from the north.  
"Ready?" Robertson shouted over the noise of gunfire and explosions.

"Throw" Three men, Mark "Shorty" Strathmont, Jack "Pierce" McFair and Andrew moved up, and threw their granades into the square.

"Watson, Bullseye, move. Squad Fire!!" The rest opened fire, and covered the two men, as they ran forward and rounded the corner. Watson carried a rifle, plus ammunition, while Bullseye carried a bazooka.

"Follow me!" Robertson ran as fast as he could towards the MG42 nest on the right side of the dry fountain.

"Schnell, Sie kommen from hier?" the MG42 on the left side of the fountain began to fire, and behind him, Robertson could hear the screams of some the men from 2nd squad.

"Pierce, Shorty, fire!!" Robertson fell how bullets rushed past him, the ripping in the sandbags in front of the MG42 crew. Closing in, Robertson emptied his Thomson's magazine into the three German soldiers.  
While shooting, he sensed Shorty, Pierce and Andrew coming up behind him, and began to shoot at the Germans as well.  
After a few seconds, the only thing they heard was the silence from their guns, and as the dust lay, the faces of the three Germans soldiers was staring up at them, their eyes full of fear and horror. Robertson just stared at the dead bodies.  
Hundred of holes in their uniforms, blood slowly flowing out onto the dusty ground. The sound of a huge projectile missed Robertson by an inch and tore out the corner of the house behind them.

"Cover!"

As the men dived down behind the wall of sandbags, bullets could be heard sinking into the sandbags, on the other side.

"BULLEYES, WATSON, GET THAT DAM AT!!" Robertson bellowed, back towards the house.  
The house, now missing a corner, had its door broken in, and the otherwise yellow coloured walls was filled with bullet holes.

From one of the windows, a round, green, tube appeared. With a flash, a rocket flew over the heads of 3rd squad, and moments after, an explosion could be heard.

"Go, Go, Go!!" Robertson quickly got up, jumped over the sandbags, and fired his weapon, while closing the last 30 meters between the squad and the AT gun. Robertson and his squad quickly made an end to the AT crew, killing one and punching two others unconcioness.  
Robertson reloaded his Thomson, while he turned to look at how 2nd was during.  
The German soldiers lay on the ground, but 2nd squad was nowhere to be found. Only one man sat, his back to the fountain, rocking from side to side, holding one of his comrades close to him.  
His head suddenly exploded, and the headless dead body slowly slided to one side.

"Shit!" Pierce just managed to mutter, before, high above them, the tower exploded.

"MOVE" Robertson bellowed, and 3rd squad stormed towards their starting position. Behind them, bricks, stones, pieces of the roof crashed to the ground. Robertson stopped as he got to the wall of the house.

"Where the fuck did that come from, Sarge?" Shorty asked, breathing heavily.

"Bullseye, was that you?" Robertson shouted towards the broken door. A moment later, both Watson and Bullseye walked out. Bullseye had the bazooka swung over his shoulder, as if it weighted nothing.

"Nope Sarge, that wasn't us"

Robertson looked around to see, how the scenery was looking.  
The yellow house he was standing beside, was missing a corner, blown away by the AT gun.  
The door had been broken in, and some of the windows had been smashed to pieces by machinegun fire.  
On the other side, form where 2nd squad had started and up to the machinegun nest on the left side of the empty fountain, lay the members of 2nd squad, spread out, indicating where they had fallen. The lieutenant lay at the base of the sandbag wall, his chest ripped open.

"Robertson, is that you?"

Robertson looked towards the ruined doors of the once beautiful church.  
4 men walked out into the light. Robertson stood up, and walked towards the remnants of 1st squad.

"Hey Nick, how did it go?" Robertson asked as the two men stopped before each other.

"Take a break guys" Sergeant Nick Jackson said, before he turned to Robertson "lost both Terrence and Teddy when we started the attack" the sergeant pulled out a smoke from his left chest pocked "the fucking sniper got them, when we got pinned down by a machinegun nest on the other side of the church. The fucking bastard got what he deserved, threw a fucking bazooka right up his ass"

"Yeah, but it wasn't his ass only one the line, my squad almost got killed because of the debris"

Robertson eyed the young sergeant. The kid had only been in command for a few months, and already he had a reputation for being a bit reckless. This time however, it was too bad.

"Sorry Robertson, didn't know you where that close to the church"

"Yeah well, you couldn't have known anyway" Robertson turned to walk towards his squad, sitting in front of the yellow house, enjoying the sun "I'm just thankful to took care of that sniper"


End file.
